Kill Strife
by Niquie
Summary: This is my take on the Kill Bill movies with FF and KH characters instead. Cloud is the leader of an elite group of assassins. He betrayed Tifa, the woman he loved, in the worst possible way. Now, Tifa wants revenge and will do whatever it takes to get it
1. Do you find me sadistic?

A/N: Okay guys, this story is my plot bunny's take on the Kill Bill movies, using characters from Final Fantasy and maybe Kingdom Hearts games. Tell me what you think. Know that all flames will be be ignored. XP

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The storyline and most of the dialogue belongs to the genius Quentin Tarantino, and the locations and characters belong to Squeenix. Again, I own nothing. T-T

* * *

Kill Strife

Prologue

"Do you find me sadistic?"

I lay there staring at the ceiling, fighting for breath. I've been beaten bloody. It feels like I'm suffocating; the pain is excruciating. But pain is nothing new to me, considering my previous line of work. Maybe I should have seen this coming. Looking back at my past employer, maybe I _had_ this coming. Karma and all that. But right now, karma can go fuck itself. My only concern is for the one who has done nothing to deserve this.

Then he speaks.

"Do you find me sadistic?"

He kneels down and gently wipes some blood from my cheek with the thumb of his gloved hand.

I stare at him, burning with more hatred than I ever thought I could possess, and he knows it.

"I bet I could fry an egg on your head right now, if I wanted to." he says, looking at my expression with a hint of laughter in his voice. But those cobalt blue eyes, eyes that I once loved so much, are void of humor. In fact, they seem pained, hurt by what they're seeing. But considering that their owner is the cause of the sight before them, I am disinclined to give a fuck.

He continues to wipe away blood from my face.

"No Tif. I'd like to believe, even now, you're aware enough to know that there is not a trace of sadism in my actions..." He looks up at the corpses littering the floor around us. "Okay, maybe towards their sorry asses, but not to you."

I can't stand looking at him, but I wouldn't dare take my eyes off of him for a second.

Standing behind him are his four lackeys, three females and one male, all dressed in black. The fourth female however, seems to have disappeared at the moment. Not that she's of any importance anyway. She wasn't one of them, not really. Just a lackey in training.

Around us are the broken bodies of people I'd begun to care about, and a few others who were just doing their jobs. There they lay, empty vessels in pools of their own blood. I'll probably be joining them soon.

The 'lackey in training' is back now...

"No Tif," he says standing up, "at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic."

...She hands him her gun.

No. This can't happen! Not for my sake but for...

"Cloud" I try to say calmly as he raises the gun, but the panic was evident in my voice, "it's your bab—"

**BANG!!**

* * *

Well? What do you think? Is it worth continuing? Let me know.

As you can see, Cloud is the "Bill" of the piece, and Tifa is the "Bride". Because I'm mostly follwing canon material from the Kill Bill movies, the Squeenix characters may be OOC, but not too much I hope. I will try to keep that from happening as much as I can.

Okay, time to review! if you do I'll give you a cookie!

Thanks for reading,

Niquie


	2. Blood splattered Angel

A/N: OK peoples, I'm back with the first offical chapter. First, there are a few of things I need to explain:

1) I am not going in the same order as the movies. In the first movie, after the Bride gets shot in the church, the next scene is the one where she goes after the second person on her "List", then it goes back to when she's in a coma, then wakes up and starts her journey. That works great for the movie but it would have been a pain for me to write the story like that. Way too confusing. So this story will go in chronological order.

2) Along with the material from the movies, I will be using stuff from the script that did not make it into the films. I read the script and found a ton of cool stuff that was not a part of the finished story, so I'll be using it here, as well as whatever craziness my brain come up with. But yeah, the majority of it will come from the movies and script.

3) Finally, unlike the prologue, the rest of the story will be in past tense from third person POV, mainly so it will make sense. After all how does a comatose woman know everything that is going on around her, and in different parts of the world? _I_ couldn't think of a way to make that work, thus the reason for changing to third person.

BTW, I changed the rating from T to M due to the language and violent content, just a warning.

Thanks for reading my ramblings, now on with the fic!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize or a lot of what you don't for that matter. Kill Bill belongs to Quentin Tarantino. The Final Fantasy series belongs to Square Enix. I own nothing.

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Chapter One

"Blood Splattered Angel"

**Rocket Town Chapel**

"_Do you find me sadistic? ...No Tif, I'd like to believe, even now, you're aware enough to know there is not a trace or sadism in my actions . . . at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic."_

"_Cloud, it's your bab–"_

_**BANG!!**_

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32 minutes later -

A black and white squad car marked 'Rocket Town Sheriff's Dept.', came to a stop next to one of the three other identical vehicles already parked outside of the small white chapel near the outskirts of town. The driver, a man in his mid thirties with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, stepped out of the car and slammed the door.

"Shit. Just what I fucking needed today," the driver muttered, removing the cigarette from between his lips and flicking it to the ground.

He spotted a young man in his early twenties, with a long light brown ponytail and a black cowboy hat walking towards him.

"Kinneas! What the fuck's goin' on?" the older man yelled as he walked to meet the deputy, Irvine.

"Sheriff, you're not going to believe this," the young man said, shaking his head grimly, "It's some pretty fucked up shit."

"Hell don't just stand there, give me the gory details."

"It's a goddamn massacre, Cid." Irvine stood in front of his boss with his arms crossed. "They wiped out the whole wedding party, execution style."

Cid looked up at the chapel. "Give me a figure."

"Eight dead bodies. Bride, groom, the reverend and his wife . . . There were no survivors."

Cid began walking to the chapel with the deputy in tow.

As the two entered the building, a look of grim fascination fell upon the Sheriff's face. The air smelled strongly of copper and death. Before them lay a blood bath in the true sense of the words. Seven of the eight victims were covered in so much blood from the multiple bullet wounds they had sustained, it was hard to tell where their injuries actually were. The eighth victim was badly beaten and received a single gunshot wound to the left side of the head. She laid there, eyes wide-open but looking at nothing. All around her, blood, and other internal matter were everywhere, the floor, the pews, the walls, even the ceiling.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" Cid shouted, while walking past one of the four other officers working the scene.

"See, what'd I tell ya? Looks like a goddamn Gongagan death squad. This shit wasn't random."

"You better shit-can that blasphemy boy, yer in a fuckin' house of worship, show some damn respect!" Cid scolded.

Irvine regarded his boss for a second, and considered turning the other man's words back on him. Then, remembering Cid's temper, decided against it.

"Sure boss, I'll keep that in mind," was his offhanded reply.

"Ye see, kid, this here is the work of professionals. I'd guess Shin-Ra Turks. Four, maybe five strong."

"How can you tell?"

"It's vicious, cold blooded and thorough. Just like how those Shin-Ra jack-offs like it." The Sheriff took another quick look around.

"A sure and steady hand did this. This ain't no fuckin' amateur, no, this bastard has experience. You can tell by the cleanliness of the carnage. A crazy rampage, though it may be . . . all the colors are kept inside the lines. If not Turks, one thing's for sure, they where definitely Shin-Ra trained. Heh, if you was a stupid fucker, you could almost admire it."

The young deputy looked around trying to spot this supposed 'cleanly carnage', but instead only saw the carnage part. Sometimes he wondered about Cid…

"Who's the bride?" Cid called, catching his attention. Irvine turned and walked over to his boss.

"Don't know. The name on the marriage certificate is Asha Valhalla."

"Hell that's a fake!" Cid snorted, standing over the broken female figure.

"Yeah, we've just been calling her 'The Bride'. As you can see, she was pregnant."

"He must have been one hellova mad dog to shoot a goddamn good-lookin' gal like that in the head." The older man knelt in front of the lifeless woman. "Look at her, I'm bettin' 20 - 22 years old, dark hair, big wine colored eyes, a rack you could set your beer on. She's a little blood-splattered angel, crimson halo and everything . . . Kinneas?"

"Yeah."

"This broad ain't dead you dumbass! Call a fuckin' paramedic!"

* * *

**Rocket Town General Hospital**

Four months later-

_**12:37am**_

The now comatose Bride laid in her hospital bed, eyes wide open, unblinking and unseeing, totally unaware of anyone or anything. Outside, a huge thunderstorm was raging through the night as a car slowed to a stop by of the main entrance. The passenger side door opened and two pink galoshes stepped out onto the soaked asphalt. The owner of the galoshes wore a matching pink trench coat and carried a red umbrella as she made her way to the hospital entrance, not bothering to turn around as the car she arrived in drove off. The woman entered the hospital and made her way to the ladies room. A few minutes later, the strange woman exited the room wearing a white nurse's uniform, white shoes and a white eye patch over her left eye. She was in her early to mid twenties and her visible emerald eye and long curly, light brown hair made her seem almost angelic. She carried a small silver tray with a syringe full of some mystery drug.

She walked down the hall to the sleeping bride's room. The young nurse stepped inside the private room, closed and locked the door behind her, and then approached the comatose woman. She stared at her a moment and spoke in a tone too sweet for the words she was saying.

"Tifa Lockhart. You know, I might never have liked you. In fact I despise you. But that shouldn't suggest that I don't respect you. You were a master of a profession that's most difficult to master."

The "nurse" lifted the syringe and set the small tray on a nearby table. She removed the cap from the needle of the syringe.

"Dying in our sleep is a luxury our kind is rarely afford. My gift to you." She said the last part with a smug smile. Just as the woman lowered the syringe to her "patient's" arm, she was interrupted by a soft electronic melody.

"Oh for fucks sake. . ." She knew it could only be one person as she opened her pink cell phone and without looking at the caller id, answered almost dreamily. "Hello, Cloud."

Somewhere on the other side of Gaia, a 23-year old man with spiky blond hair and piercing cobalt eyes stood on a balcony over looking the ocean with a cell phone to his ear.

"**What's her current condition?"** The man asked.

"Comatose, but stable," the "nurse" answered with an audible smile.

"**Where is she?" **

Grinning widely, the woman answered, "I'm standing in front of her right now."

"**That's my girl. Aerith, I want you to abort the mission."**

"WHAT!?" the woman shrieked.

"**Keep your voice down." **Cloud sigh in exasperation. He had expected this reaction from Aerith, but he continued. **"We owe her better than this," **he stated evenly.

Aerith began pacing the hospital room. She could not believe her ears. After everything this bitch did, he still cared about her!

"Oh, you don't owe her shit!" the woman yelled.

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose; he was getting tired of her sloppiness on this mission. She's an assassin for Shiva's sake! The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. It was times like this he really missed his right-hand woman.

"**Fuck Aerith, will you lower your voice?" **

"You don't owe her shit!" the now thoroughly pissed brunette hissed. "And don't fucking ssshhh me! If you think I came all the way hear to Rocket Town - in a dog and cat rainstorm no less - just to tuck 'Silicone Suzie' into bed, you got another thing com– "

"**Aerith."**

"No! Man, fuck that bitch. . . you don't owe her shit!" Aerith was seething.

Cloud stared down at the moonlit ocean as the waves crashed against the cliff side.

"**I'm not going to do this with you," **the slightly pissed off man stated.

"Oh really? Well Cloud, you never leave a job half done. A great teacher told me that once. Funny, he looked a whole lot like you."

The young woman tried to calm herself down. She knew Cloud was the kind of man who did things his own way, basically because more often than not it was the best way to do it. But if you wanted the slightest chance of changing his mind, you had to be cool and rational. Otherwise he'd just ignore you. Cloud Strife did not respond to tantrums and he rarely explains himself.

"**Are you done?"**

Aerith huffed, "Go ahead."

"**You all beat the hell out of that woman, but you didn't kill her. I put a bullet in her head, and her heart just kept beating. You saw that yourself with that beautiful green eye of yours. Right?"**

Aerith nodded even though the man on the other end of the line couldn't see her.

"**We've done a hell of a lot of things to her, and if she ever wakes up, we'll do a hell of a lot more. But we won't sneak into her room in the middle of the night like a filthy rat and kill her in her sleep. The reason we won't do that, is because that would lower us. Do you agree Gainsborough."**

It wasn't a question. He made sense and he knew it.

Over the course of his explanation, Aerith's face turned from plain anger and frustration to begrudging understanding. She knew he was right. Damn him.

"I guess so."

"**Do you really have to guess?"**

She could hear him smirking - that same smirk that always turned her to into putty in his _very_ capable hands.

"No, I don't really have to guess. I know." Her face was a cross between a pout and a smile.

"**Come home. Both of you."**

"Okay."

"**Aerith, I do love you."**

Aerith's smiled brightly at this; that was a very rare acknowledgment for Cloud to make. He was not one to share his emotions. Maybe he wasn't so hung up on _her_after all. She turned to the sleeping figure and smirked smugly.

"I love you too, bye-bye." she closed her cell phone and looked at the comatose bride with the wide-open eyes. Even thought her face was expressionless, she almost seemed to be smiling, mocking her even.

"Thought that was pretty fucking funny, didn't you?" Aerith stood over Tifa's still form. "Word of advice shithead, never wake up." She leaned closer to the bride's face, observing her.

"Ya know, now that I look at you, you're not so damn hot. Yeah you got that whole 'Rinoa Heartily in her heyday' thing going for you but… ya know, now that I get a closer look at you, you're kinda weird looking. You got this funny shaped nose that doesn't fit with the rest f your face, your eyes - aside from being the funky muddy red color - are two different sizes. And look at your skin. . . my complexion is way better than yours -- "

At that moment, one of Tifa's motor reflex functions decided to kick in… She spat in Aerith's face.

Aerith sprang up and wiped the spit from her cheek.

"You bitch." She grabbed Tifa by the front of her hospital gown and pulled her into a sitting position and punched her hard in the face three times.

"If you ever take your ass out of this Goddamn bed for as long as you fucking live, I will beat you into the ground, you whore!" she grounded out before unceremoniously dropping the bride back onto the bed.

Aerith grabbed the now forgotten syringe and stormed out of the room. As she marched down the hallway angrily still in her nurse's uniform, she passed by a doctor who was struggling with a patient that was bleeding profusely on a gurney.

"Nurse! Come here quick, we're losing him!" the doctor yelled.

She didn't even look back and kept walking.

"Tough titty. I quit."

With that, Aerith Gainsborough strode out of the hospital leaving a freshly bruise bride and a dumbfounded doctor in her wake.

_**1:04 am**_

As she stepped outside in the pouring rain, the car she exited less than 30 minutes ago pulled in front of her and she got in.

"Took you long enough," the driver smirked, "I circled this building three times waiting for you. What's your status?"

Refusing to look at the irritating grin she knew was coming, Aerith fixed her gaze out the rain streaked window and muttered a barely audible 'incomplete'.

"Really," the driver passed the irate woman a sideways glance as he drove out onto the street, and grinned. "He couldn't do it could he? I knew it! Still second best, huh Rith?"

"Bite me. And stop calling me Rith you ass, you know I hate it." She turned and glowered at the man driving the car.

"That's why I do it babe."

"For your information, he did not choose her over me. He simply felt it wise to abort the mission, that's all."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Besides," she continued as if she didn't hear the man, "why _would_ Cloud choose a vegetable over me."

"Have you seen her onions? Biggest I've ever seen. . . Well, naturally grown anyway. Seriously, they're enough to make a grown man cry," the driver smiled at the memory. "Too bad she's gonna spend her life deteriorating in that hospital bed."

Aerith gaped at him. "Idiot."

"What?"

"That has to be the stupidest thing I've heard today, at least!"

"Which part?"

"The whole damn thing. A) You're part of the reason she's in that condition, and B) I'm not even going to address that first part."

The mystery man laughed. "Well what do ya know, a real life green-eyed monster. Or in your case, green-eyed Cyclopes."

"Bullshit. There is nothing to be jealous of."

"Really?"

Somehow being around this man reduced her maturity level to that of a nine year old's. Not wanting to go down that route with him, especially after the evening she's had, she changed the course of the conversation back to the original topic.

"What about you? Did you manage to do something right for once? Gaia knows you can't be relied on for anything important."

"You wound me. Of course I did. When have I ever failed to accomplish my objective? Take a look for yourself."

The man nodded toward the back seat, "I called Cloud as soon as it was done, let him know that his precious cargo is on the way."

Aerith turned in her seat and looked at the 'precious cargo', as her associate put it, and said nothing. She turned back around and stared out the window into the rainy night.

The driver noticed this and smiled. This was too good.

"I know. Look's just like her, huh Rith?"

* * *

Wow, who knew sweet little Aerith could cuss like a sailor? I always thought she had an inner bitch but geez, lol! I know, OOC, but I couldn't help myself lol! Anyway, about the "Driver" and the "Precious cargo", you'll find out more about that later, although you might have already guessed who and/or what they are.

As you can see, I had Cid Highwind be the sherif and Irvine Kinneas from FF VIII (which I do not own) as the deputy. I also made a reference to Rinoa Heartily from FF VIII, it will make sense later trust me. What else. . . I think that's it!

Thanks you everyone who read and reviewed the previous chapter, it made me feel all warm and fuzzy. And thanks to those of you who added me and my story to your alerts lists!

Please review, I appreciate it when you do! (Heh, that rhymed.)

Later people!

-Niquie-


	3. Wiggle Your Big Toe

A/N: Sorry this took so long guys, but Real Life has been kickin' my ass lately. Been thinking about getting a restraining order. . . Anyway, thank you, every one who has read and reviewed this story, and don't worry, I will see this story through to the end. I won't be abandoning it. Now, on with the fic!

Warning: This chapter includes references to rape and sexual assault. It is not too graphic but still, thought I should warn you up front. I tried to keep it to a minimum but it is a part of the original Kill Bill story so I put it in here.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Q.T. and Squeenix. I do own Min and Marty however. Warren, Gerald and Buck belong to Quentin T., thank God.

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Chapter Two

"Wiggle Your Big Toe"

**Rocket Town General Hospital**

_5 Years Later_

It had been five years, four months and two weeks since that fateful day at the local wedding chapel. That was the day a beautiful 22-year old bride-to-be fell into a deep sleep that she has yet to wake from. Her body has been in the same hospital room and in the same hospital bed since then. Her eyes, which had been staring in a constant gaze for all those years, finally slowly and softly drifted shut.

She laid there peacefully for a moment and then suddenly with a loud gasp, bolted straight up into a sitting position, her eyes wide open and, for the first time in half a decade, alert. Breathing heavily, the now 27-year old Tifa Lockhart surveyed her surroundings, completely confused as to what was going on. As she looked around, she noticed that she was in some kind of medical facility and through the window, with its partially open blinds, she could see that it was nighttime. Her mind was running a mile a minute.

"_Why the hell would I be in a place like this–_?" Then suddenly she remembered. She remembered the chapel, the gun pointing at her face, and the person holding the gun as it went off with an ear piercing bang that still seemed to echo in her mind. Her hand flew up to her left temple and she screamed out in pain as if it were happening all over again.

Tifa's hand touched the area of her now healed gunshot wound. Her hair had mostly grown back leaving only a tiny coin-sized bald spot. As she continued to feel the side of her head, she noticed something odd under the skin. She knocked her knuckles against her scalp and heard a small 'tink, tink' sound. There was a metal plate embedded in the side of her skull where the bullet hole was.

This confirmed the truth that a large part of her didn't want to admit, but now she didn't have a choice. _He_ did this. It really happened. _He_ tried to kill her and . . .

"My baby." Tifa moved her hand from her head to rest on her belly, only to find that it was not swollen, but completely flat.

It didn't make any sense. She was five months pregnant; or so she thought. She lifted up her hospital gown and saw a long curved horizontal scar going across her abdomen right above her pelvic area. The woman traced the scar with her finger and again, reality came crashing down around her.

She quickly looked down at the palms of her hands and began to count the lines. Tifa stopped counting.

"Five years?"

She was shocked. That couldn't be right. She counted again.

"Five years," she stated before her eyes filled with tears at the realization that her baby was long gone.

Before she had a chance to shed a single tear, she noticed the sound of footfalls coming toward her room. Panic started to rise in her chest; she still didn't know exactly where she was. Listening carefully, the bride was able to decipher multiple sets of heavy footsteps, indicating that three people – most likely male – were coming in her direction. Then she heard one of them speak.

"She's right in here."

The bride decided the best course of action, until she got her bearings straight, was to play possum. She threw herself back down on the bed just as the three men entered her room. They saw exactly what they were expecting to see, a young woman lying in her bed in a coma.

Two of the men could be easily identified as truck drivers due to the stereotypical style of dress: faded jeans, plaid shirts, boots and trucker hats. They looked to be in their mid-to-late forties. The third man, the one who could be heard speaking from the hallway, was in his early thirties. He wore a white hospital uniform and sneakers which indicated that he was an orderly.

"So what do you think? Sexy right? Tight body, perfect face. And the best tits you ever seen. Yep gentlemen this is one prime piece of homegrown ass right here," the orderly said in a very sleazy tone.

One of the truckers, named Gerald, grinned in approval while the other, Warren, tried to look unimpressed. "I've seen better than this bitch."

The bride could not believe what she was hearing and tried to keep away the look of chagrin that threatened to show on her supposed-to-be-emotionless face.

The orderly spoke again. "Yeah, in a movie – maybe. But I know damn well this is the best you ever saw that you had touchin' rights to."

Tifa's stomach lurched at that statement and did so again as the orderly continued his sales pitch.

"The price is a hundred and seventy-five gil a fuck gentlemen. You gettin' your freak on or what?"

The truckers exchanged a glance in silent agreement before handing the money over to the seedy hospital worker.

While counting his newly acquired money, the orderly proceeded to lay out the 'rules of engagement'.

"Now here are the rules. Rule number one: no punching 'er. Nurse comes in tomorrow and she's got a shiner or a few less teeth, the jig's up. So no knuckle sandwiches under any circumstances. And by the way, this bitch's a spitter – it's a motor reflex thing but spit or no, no punching. Now are we absolutely positively clear about rule number one?"

The two truckers gave a 'yeah' in unison.

"Good. Rule number two: no monkey bites, no hickeys – in fact no leavin' marks of any kind. And for fuck's sake use a rubber. If this chick comes up pregnant or with the clap or some other Ramah forsaken STD, shit will hit the fan. But after that it's allll gooood," he said with a sickening smile. "Keep the noise down, try not to make a mess, and I'll be back in twenty." With that, the orderly left.

As soon as he was gone, the two truckers started giggling. Warren began to unbuckle his belt. While he was doing this, Tifa opened her eyes ever so slightly to get a look at the two assholes who had intended to violate her 'comatose' form. They were both about the same height and build, which was somewhat tall with a huge gut. Apparently the concept of exercise eluded them throughout their pathetic lives. She closed her eyes just as the one named Gerald looked at her face.

"Hey Warren, she just closed her eyes."

"Her eyes were closed when we came in here."

"Well she musta opened 'em 'cus I saw her close 'em"

"Probably one o' them 'moto reflexes' er sumthin' besides," Warren dropped his jeans around his ankles, "when I get through with this little dumbbell, she's gonna stand up and sing the Midgar City Anthem."

Warren began to climb up on the bed and hovered over the 'sleeping' beauty. Before going any further he turned to his fellow rapist, "Hey, Gerald?"

"Yeah?"

"This shit ain't no peep show. Go out in the hall and I'll let ya know when it's your turn."

"Awww c'mon. I gotta leave the room?"

"I can't get no erection wit you lookin' at me, so go on."

"Well, just hurry up then," Gerald pouted and shuffled out of the room.

Warren turned his attention to the woman under him. "Time to get the fuck of a lifetime. Too bad you won't be awake fer it," he said with a predatory grin.

"_Too bad for you I am awake for it,"_ the bride seethed mentally.

Outside in the hallway, Gerald paced by the bride's room, waiting for his turn behind the door. Less than a minute later, he heard all kinds of commotion coming from inside the room. Then all of a sudden, the noises stopped and the next thing to be heard was Warren's high pitched girlish screams.

Gerald banged on the door and said, "Hey man, keep it down in there! I can hear your ass out here." The only reply was more falsetto screaming and then the heavy thud of a body falling to the floor.

Gerald opened the door to one hellava sight. His buddy Warren was lying on the floor cover in blood and the bride lying haphazardly on the bed in her coma.

He moved to his friend's side to find him dead in a pool of his own blood, with a long I.V. needle (that used to be in Tifa's arm) in his right temple and his head turned at an impossible angle. His underwear was ripped off and so was something else . . . The other man blanched considerably and his hand flew up and protectively covered his own crotch as he backed away from his mutilated companion.

He slowly approached the comatose woman and eyed the now bloody blanket covering her lower body. She laid there still as a statue while he stood above her watching for any signs of movement. She studied him too. Her eyes were open ever so slightly, but completely imperceptible under her thick dark eyelashes. Gerald, still in shock from the events of the past few minutes, turned to face the now dead Warren once more. Behind him, Tifa silently sat up. Before he knew what hit him, Tifa grabbed him by the back of the shirt and with her free hand, used her thumb and index finger to snap his neck between the second and third cervical vertebras, completely severing his brain's connection with the rest of his body. She let the dead man drop to the floor.

The once blood-spattered bride, upon waking and without leaving the bed where she had lain comatose for the last five years, had just killed two men. She threw off the bloody blanket and whipped her legs off the side of the bed. She tried to stand but only succeeded in falling flat on the floor. The muscles in her legs were in total atrophy and absolutely useless to her at the moment. Tifa was now stuck on the floor with only the top half of her body functioning.

At that moment, Tifa heard footsteps approaching the room. She looked around and noticed Gerald had a Trucker's knife in a holster attached to his belt. She removed it. The footsteps drew closer and closer as she dragged herself across the room with the knife in her teeth and settled by the door. On the other side of the door, the person who'd been walking down the corridor stopped and spoke.

"Yo! Times up, fellas. I'm coming in, ready or not."

Tifa immediately recognized the voice as that of the would-be 'pimp' from earlier. She snapped open the knife's blade.

The orderly pushed open the door and stopped, utterly shocked by what was in front of him. He saw an empty bed with bloodstains on it, two dead truckers on the floor, and no coma patient.

"Oh shit!"

Beside him the bride laid curled up low next to the doorway, the knife ready in hand. The freaked out man stepped into the room and when he did, Tifa reached out and slashed both of his Achilles tendons.

The orderly let out a yelp and fell hitting the floor face first. Tifa grabbed the stunned man and pulled him across the floor and placed his head between the door and the doorframe. Taking the door in her right hand, she slammed his head with it three times.

"Where's Cloud?" Tifa demanded in a menacing voice.

The orderly just lay there on the floor in a strange state of consciousness. He was in both excruciating pain and quite sure he'd lost his mind, since at the moment he was sprawled out on his back, looking up at a comatose woman while she asked him questions with a murderous glint in her burgundy orbs.

Hurt and confused, he mutters a very slurred, "What?"

**SLAM!**

He let out a scream.

"Cloud! Where's Cloud?"

"The sky?"

**SLAM!**

"Where is he . . . ?" **SLAM** . . . "Tell me where he is . . . " **SLAM** . . . "or do I have to beat your fuckin' brains in . . . ?" **SLAM!**

"Please stop hitting me," the man begged pathetically.

"Where's Cloud?!" She looked down and saw two tattoos on the orderly's hands; one spelling "B.U.C.K." on each finger of his left hand, and the other spelling "F.U.C.K." on the fingers of his right. She remembered something.

_FLASHBACK_

Buck entered her room for the first time about a year ago. He stood at the foot of her bed holding a flashlight in the dimly lit room and shined the light on the sleeping woman.

"Well ain't you the slice of cutie pie they all said you wuz." The man stared at her for a second then said, "Jane Doe, we don't know shit about you. Well Ma'am, I'm from North Corel, my name is Buck and I'm here to fuck."

He started to unbuckle his belt.

_END OF FLASHBACK_

Tifa looked down at Buck and said, "Your name is Buck right? And . . . you came here to _fuck_, right?"

A "how-the-fuck-does-she-know" look crossed his features.

Tifa looked at him with an emotionless and frightening look in her eyes. With the door in her hand and one final mighty slam, Buck from North Corel was sent back to the Lifestream.

She searched the dead man's pockets, and came up with a brown "RT Pimpin'" wallet loaded with cash and a set of car keys with a key chain that had the words "Pussy Wagon" on it written in a stylized 'pimpy' font. She gathered all the items, including Gerald's knife, and began to strip Buck of his orderly uniform. She changed into the uniform and put her newly acquired possessions in the pockets.

Tifa knew she couldn't get far in her current condition. She needed help. She looked around the room and noticed the closet to her left. Tifa knew that most hospitals keep a wheelchair in the majority of their patients' rooms, and if luck was on her side, she would find one in hers. She crawled the short distance to the closet and opened it to reveal a wheelchair folded up in the corner.

"Thank you, Odin."

She pulled out the chair and unfolded it before pulling her body up into the seat. She wheeled over to the door and poked her head out. Seeing that the coast was clear, she wheeled out of the room that had been her prison and very own private hellhole for the last five years of her life and down the hall to the elevator that would hopefully lead her one step closer to freedom.

Tifa rode the elevator down to the underground parking lot. Once there, she rolled down the line of cars, looking for the vehicle Buck might own and abruptly stopped the chair. She was face to face with the rear end of a big, yellow 4x4 pickup truck, with four doors and red flames painted on the sides and the words, "PUSSY WAGON," written in stylized 'pimpy' font, along the flatbed hatch door.

She took Buck's keys out of her pocket and looked at the chain. So Buck, who had "F.U.C.K." tattooed on his right hand, also had "Pussy Wagon" on the tail end of his pickup.

"Such an asshole." It was the only logical conclusion.

She rolled to the driver side and unlocked and opened the rear door. Tifa pulled herself up into the backseat of the pickup truck. Once in the seat she shoved the wheelchair away then pulled the truck door closed. She lied down in the backseat, seemingly out of danger – or at least out of sight – but was still stuck hiding in the hospital. Until she regained full use of her legs, she had no hope of going anywhere or doing anything.

Lying flat with her head propped up against the door, her long, lifeless legs stretched out in front of her, she stared at her bare feet. Tifa focused her gaze, her thoughts and all her strength and concentration on her big toe.

"_Wiggle your big toe . . . wiggle your big toe."_

Nothing happened.

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

The toe did not move.

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

Still, nothing

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

Nothing.

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

As she laid in the back of Buck's truck, mentally repeating her newfound mantra and trying to will her limbs out of atrophy, she couldn't help but see the faces of the fuckers who did this to her and the dick responsible: members all of Cloud's brainchild, the "Deadly WEAPON Assassination Squad." They were an elite group of assassins whose name was inspired by the legend of the ancient monsters that were said to protect and defend Gaia from any and all unnatural apocalyptic threats.

According to the legend, the WEAPONS were created thousands of years ago by the planet itself as a last line of defense against an ancient evil known as Jenova. Their purpose was to eradicate all potential threats to life on Gaia, but if they were ever to fail, one WEAPON, known as Omega, would draw out all of planet's life force and carry it across the cosmos to safety and begin life anew on another planet. When the crisis with Jenova ended, all the WEAPONS were said to have gone deep within the planet were they now lie dormant, waiting to protect life on Gaia at all costs.

Cloud Strife had always been a fan of this myth, and considering the type of work his organization would be doing, the irony was just too much to pass up. The DWAS consisted of Cloud and his five highly skilled Enforcers:

Sapphire WEAPON:_ Classified_

Diamond WEAPON:_ Classified_

Emerald WEAPON: Aerith Gainsborough

Ultimate WEAPON:_ Classified_

Ruby WEAPON: Tifa Lockhart

Omega WEAPON: Cloud Strife

They were the greatest assassins Gaia had never heard of. They were a tight-knit group, like a family. An extremely dysfunctional and corrupt, 'happy' family. Judging by what had happened the last time the six of them occupied the same room, a little more than five years ago, it was clear that Tifa had been disowned. They chose to be her enemies and she had a strong desire to show them the consequences that go with such a choice.

Now after half a decade of beauty sleep, she knew nothing about her enemies' strength, weaknesses or whereabouts. But as fated by the Gods' love of vengeance, she knew nothing but one thing: as sure as Ifrit has a fetish for fire, if "Sapphire WEAPON"– the first name on Tifa's Death List – was still alive, she'd be living in Wutai.

Sapphire WEAPON, better known as Yuffie Kisaragi, made her first acquaintance with death at the young age of eleven. Yuffie's father, Godo Kisaragi was the leader of a Wutaneese tribe of ninjas and Min, her mother, was his queen. Their tribe was made up of three hundred and fifty-nine men, women and children. They lived in the beautiful Da-chao village at the base of the Da-chao Mountains in Wutai and stuck to the time-honored traditions of their nation's forefathers, unlike their neighbors in Jou, the booming metropolis that is the capital of the small island nation.

Jou was the epitome of all that is modern and technologically advanced. It was a major tourist destination as well as a hotbed for organized crime, ruled mostly by ruthless gangsters. But then again, so were most places in the world. Da-chao was different though. Godo and Min were fair and honest rulers who refused to bend to the wills of crime lords from the big city and stayed strong in their beliefs and principles. Unfortunately, this lead to their untimely and brutal deaths. A gangster by the name of Hojo, who was affiliated with Shin-Ra, the most dangerous crime syndicate and arms dealer in all of Gaia, decided to try to make a name for himself outside of the organization he'd been connected to for over thirty years. He figured the best way to accomplish this task would be to conquer the ninja village and prove his strength.

_**Wutai: 12 years ago**_

One late one summer's night, Hojo, being the coward that he was, marched one hundred Shin-Ra SOLDIERS into the sleeping village. Yes, it was overkill, but Hojo wasn't taking any chances. He knew of Wutai's ninjas and their skills in combat. The SOLDIERS quietly disposed of all of the ninjas on patrol before moving in and slaughtering nearly a third of the villagers before the alarms were raised. The Da-chao ninjas put up an admirable fight and managed to kill many of Hojo's, or more accurately, _Shin-Ra's_ men, but in the end they were no match for the mako enhanced warriors and Hojo's sneaky tactics. All of the villagers were murdered. While all of this was going on, Lord Godo was busy trying to defend his wife and daughter from the five SOLDIERS that had made it past palace guards. He was a powerful and amazingly skilled warrior and could handle a SOLDIER without too much difficulty, but he was out matched five to one and was restrained by the intruders.

Needless to say, all fighting had ceased long before Hojo set foot in Da-chao. The man made his way down the bloody streets, past the corpses of the innocent villagers. Male, female, young and old, all died because of his greed. He walked to the palace and into the main bedroom where the ruler and his wife were being held captive. They were tortured for hours. Godo was forced to watch as his wife was raped and beaten by their captors while enduring merciless beatings himself. Hojo ended their suffering and lives by slicing their heads off with the Kisaragi Ancestral Katana. Unbeknownst to the trespassers, little Yuffie Kisaragi quietly watched the whole thing from her hiding place, which was a crawl space above the room that led to a secret passage outside of the palace walls. As she witnessed the cruelty of the man called Hojo, the tears that at first streamed down her flushed cheeks freely, gave way to eyes and a face of stone. She swore revenge. When the Hojo and the SOLDIERS left the room, Yuffie made her way down to the secret passage, out of the palace and village she would never call home again.

Two years later, Yuffie entered the palace where she used to live, wearing a Wutaneese schoolgirl uniform. Right after the massacre of Da-chao, Hojo and his followers took over the small village and ran it into the ground. It was almost unrecognizable to the young girl as she walked freely through the front gate. It was twilight out, but the condition of her surroundings was clear. The buildings were run down, structures were falling apart, and everything that was once lively and beautiful was now a dull lifeless shadow of its former self. Yuffie was completely disgusted by the animals responsible for the state of the once great village. She did not have time to ponder these things too much however, because she had a date.

That was why she was able to walk into a town full of gangsters and into a palace guarded by SOLDIERS with little more than a glance in her direction. She was expected. Well, not so much _her_ as people _like her._ It was a normal occurrence to see young adolescent girls wandering around unchaperoned. Why? Because Hojo was a pedophile.

Yuffie stood alone in the room where her parents were murdered, waiting for Hojo; the room where she would taste revenge. Above the bed hung her family's ancestral sword, the one used to kill her parents. She removed the sword from its sheathe, and stood in the middle of the room with the sword in her left hand, strategically angled behind her left leg so it would not be visible from the front. She did not have to wait long. About five minutes after she entered the room, Hojo followed locking the door behind him. He eyed her lecherously, grinning as he approached her. Yuffie stood firmly in place as the predator closed distance between them. Only when he was close enough to reach out and touch her did she act. She performed a low roundhouse kick, knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. Before he could make a sound, she had thrust the sword into his abdomen. He screamed loudly at the pain coursing through his mid section. The young ninja knelt down on top of him, her grasp on her katana still firmly in place. She glowered hatefully at the man who destroyed her family, her people and their way of life.

"Look at me Hojo . . . take a good look at my face." Yuffie leaned in closer to make sure he could see her clearly. Hojo laid there, writhing in pain and utter shock at what was happening. "Look at my eyes. Look at my nose, my chin, my mouth!" She withdrew the sword then plunged it into the left side of his chest, earning a pained gasp. "Do I look familiar? Do I look like someone you murdered?"

At this point Hojo was gasping for air as each breath burned through the hole in his now punctured lung. Hearing the man's prior screams, three guards broke down the doors and saw Yuffie on top of the slowly dying Hojo. They aimed their guns at the young girl but she was too quick. She pulled out three of the seven small kunai strapped high up on her right thigh and whipped them at the men. Each one the throwing knives found a home deep inside of a guard's throat. After they all fell to the floor, Yuffie stood up and towered over Hojo's barely conscious form. In one smooth motion, she cut off his head they same way he had done to her parents. She cleaned her blade on the bedspread and sheathed it, then disappeared out the window before any more guards could come.

At age thirteen, Yuffie Kisaragi got her revenge.

At age fifteen, she was one of the top female assassins in the world.

At age sixteen, she became a Deadly WEAPON.

At age eighteen, she did her part in killing eight innocent people, including Tifa's unborn daughter, in a small wedding chapel in Rocket Town. But on that day, five years ago, she and her comrades made one huge mistake . . .

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

. . .They should have killed nine. However, before satisfaction could be hers, Tifa had to do first things first.

"_Wiggle your big toe."_

An hour and a half after she started her repetitious monologue, her big toe wiggled – slightly. She smiled in accomplishment.

"Hard part's over. Now, lets get these other piggies wiggling."

_Thirteen hours later_

Tifa stepped out of the pickup truck onto the parking lot pavement and closed the rear door. She walked somewhat stiffly to the front door and climbed in the driver's seat. She put the key in the ignition and turned it. As the truck rumbled to life, she let out a sigh of relief.

"Finally free." And she pulled out of the parking space and drove out of the parking lot, leaving Rocket Town General Hospital behind forever.

**Rocket Town**

It was mid-afternoon when Tifa pulled out of the underground parking garage. Tifa drove Buck's big, yellow Pussy Wagon all over town buying supplies for the long journey ahead. Since the only articles of clothing she had were the scrubs on her back and no shoes, the first stop was the nearest clothing store.

Tifa walked barefoot into "Haven," one of her favorite places to shop before that whole wedding chapel incident. She walked around the store and picked out a pair of jeans, cargo pants, two shirts and tank tops, socks, bras, underwear, and a black leather jacket. At the shoe section, she grabbed a pair of black boots and a pair of black and white Converse Chuck T's.

"_All courtesy of Buck,"_ she thought sardonically, as she opened the "RT Pimpin'" wallet and paid for her new wardrobe.

She exited the store in her new sneakers and loaded her purchases into the back seat of the truck. She then walked across the street to a department store. There she picked up a shovel, a small pickaxe, a large camping flashlight, a sleeping bag, a map of the Rocket Town Area, a notebook and pens, a duffle bag and some toiletries.

Once her shopping spree was done, she drove to a small, well-kept inn on the northwestern edge of town and rented a room for the night.

She carried her clothes and a few other items with her to the room. She entered the small room and made a beeline straight for the bathroom, dropping all but two of her bags on the bed as she passed. The first thing she did was draw herself a steaming hot bath. Tifa reached in a bag and pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste and set them on the sink. Bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap followed and were lined up on the edged of the tub. From the second bag, she retrieved various bath products, like bubble bath, salts, and bath oil, all either kiwi or honeydew-apricot scented and poured them all in the bathwater. She pealed off Buck's orderly uniform and then lowered her body into the tub.

Submerged in the relaxing aromatic warm water, the moist heat releasing the tension from her still weary muscles, Tifa began to cry. Her poor heart had been shattered and five years of tears came flooding out of her. She cried for her baby and for the motherhood robbed from her. She cried for all the innocent people at the wedding chapel, who died simply because they were unlucky enough to cross her path. She cried for the betrayal at the hands of her lover and the treachery of her comrades. Her tears were for the five years of life snatched from her and the countless violations she endured while incapacitated. And finally, she cried for all the misery she would cause the undeserving, en route to Cloud's retribution. Retribution that would begin the minute she stepped out of that bathtub.

She curled up into a fetal position inside the tub of warm water, weeping and allowing herself to just _be_ for a little while, because she knew when she finished shedding tears, was when she'd begin shedding blood.

An hour later, Tifa emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, with her long damp hair falling around her shoulders and unreadable eyes. All of her emotions were closed off, save for one: revenge.

She moved to the bed and emptied all of the contents from the shopping bags on the bedspread. She put aside some clothes to change into and packed the rest of her new belongings in her duffle bag. It wasn't much, just enough clothes for a couple of days. She knew she would need to buy more once she got to her first destination but it would do for now. When she was done, she slipped into a pair of black low riding cargo pants, a white tank top, her boots and leather jacket. Tifa left the inn shortly before sundown. She climbed into the truck and drove off heading north.

The young woman drove for two and a half hours and then came to stop in a prairie wasteland with nothing to show but dirt, rocks and plants for miles. She shut off the engine but left the headlights on. Taking her flashlight with her, she walked out into the headlight beams toward one rock on the ground in particular. Tifa turned it over reviling a blue X painted on its underside. She smiled. If the X hadn't been there, she would have taken it as a sign that her vengeance quest was never meant to be. But as it was there, it would appear that fortune had smiled on Tifa and her bloody intentions.

She walked back to the truck, took off her jacket then got the shovel, the pickaxe and the sleeping bag from the flatbed. She walked back to the X rock then took ten paces east and stopped. She plunged the shovel into the unmarked earth. She set the pickaxe aside and started digging a hole. A few feet into digging, she struck something hard. Tifa got down on her knees and proceeded to hack away at the dirt with the small pickaxe, until a large box covered in plastic was revealed. She hoisted it up out of the earth and ripped off the plastic, revealing a large, green military footlocker, untouched by the condensation of being buried in the ground for over five years. Flipping the two locks open, she lifted the lid, placing the big camping flashlight on the rim. Tifa unfolded the sleeping bag and began collecting the contents of her buried treasure and laid them on the sleeping bag one by one.

There were two 9mm automatics, one small hand gun and a thigh holster, a snub nose .38 with an ankle holster, a double-edged Sog knife and sheathe, one pump action shot gun, a silver boomerang with a double-sided razor's edge, and an old-fashioned straight razor. Next she pulled out a black vertical attaché case. Inside, broken down into four separate pieces, was a high-powered, scope-sight rifle. Another larger brief case was full of ammo for all of her guns.

Also, there was also a manila envelope. Tifa reached in and pulled out a photocopy of her sonogram of her unborn baby girl. Fierce grimness crossed her face as she placed the sonogram back in the envelope and continued with her task. She pulled out a clear zip-lock bag containing a phony I.D. and bankbook, both with the name "Terra Ralston" on them. Reaching back in the locker she pulled out the final item, a small key attached to a wolf key chain.

She rolled up the weapons in the sleeping bag, loaded up the truck and drove back to her room at the inn for the night.

The next day, Tifa, or rather "Terra Ralston," drove to the Commonwealth Bank of Rocket Town.

She entered the building, with a large athletic bag on her shoulder and walked over to the nearest teller, a young woman by the name of Marty.

"Hello! Welcome to the Commonwealth Bank of RT! My name is Marty, how may I help you this beautiful day?!" Marty asked with way more enthusiasm than should be legal . . . ever.

Tifa raised a perfectly arched brow at the woman. "My name is Terra Ralston, I'm here for my safety deposit boxes."

"Great. Just fill out these forms and I'll need to see some identification and I will also need the key to your boxes," Bank Teller Marty smiled brightly. The woman was borderline giddy.

Tifa blinked at the woman then set about filling out the paperwork. When she finished, she handed them, along with her fake I.D. and the small key on the wolf keychain, to the bubbly woman. Bank Teller Marty entered the information into the computer, and when everything checked out, she passed the I.D. back to "Terra" and led her to the safety deposit vault. She went to the appropriate boxes and removed them from their places in the vault wall. She handed two to Tifa and carried two herself to a small private viewing room with Tifa in tow. She set the boxes and key down and turned to Tifa with a smile.

"Here you are Miss Ralston, I am so happy I could help you today, and if there is anything else you need, just give me a holler!" With that, the young woman left Tifa to her business.

Tifa watched the door close with a hint of disbelief in her features then turned to the metal boxes on the table and placed the ones she was carrying next to them.

She opened the first box. It was filled with cash. She opened the second box; it too was filled with money. Then she opened the third box. Three guesses as to what was in it. That's right. It was filled to the top with gil. She emptied the contents of the three boxes into her bag.

Finally, Tifa opened the last box. She pulled out fourteen forged passports and drivers' licenses in fourteen different names. The only thing left in the box was one compact refrigerator case. She opened it and inside were two 24k gold syringes and two vials of fluid labeled "The Undisputed Truth" and "Goodbye Forever." She closed the case and put it and the forged passports and drivers' licenses into the athletic bag and zipped it shut. She picked up the safety deposit key and removed and pocketed the wolf keychain, set the SD key on the table and left the room. As she was leaving the bank, she passed by Bank Teller Marty.

"Did you find every thing ok?" Marty asked cheerily.

Tifa gave the woman a small smile and a nod.

"Good! Is there anything else I can do for you Miss. Ralston?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Wonderful! I hope you enjoy this lovely day!" the exuberant woman chirped.

"I will, but not nearly as much as you I bet." Tifa said with a smile as fake as "Terra Ralston" herself.

Bank Teller Marty smiled and waved goodbye as Tifa turned and left the bank.

She now had all the weapons and money she would need, and took the next step on her bloody trail.

Tifa drove to the RT airport and parked the Pussy Wagon in the underground parking area, then went inside building. She walked over to a counter and spoke to the woman behind it.

"Welcome to Rocket Air! May I help you?" the young ticket agent greeted.

"Cosmo Canyon. One way."

oOo

* * *

1 Da-chao is the name of the mountain in Wutai with all the Buddha-like carvings and statues where Yuffie and Elena get kidnaped and held hostage by Don Corneo in the game.

2 In this story Yuffie's village is the same one you see in the video game, though in here it is called Da-chao like the mountains.

3 Wutai's capital Jou (a city I made up) is like modern day Tokyo.

4 Wutaneese schoolgirl uniforms are just like the sailor-like school uniforms you see in some anime/mangas, like Fruits Basket (which I do not own) for example.

Please review!

Niquie


	4. I Have Vermin To Kill

A/N: Hi all! Gosh, it's been forever since I last updated and I am very sorry for that. I blame Real Life and writer's block. . . and laziness. T-T -is ashamed-

So, I fixed up the spelling and grammar mistakes, along with a few other things, in the prologue and the first two chapters. And I must thank my beta, Darkenigma, for helping me with that and this chapter as well. Much appreciated. :3

Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed chapter two. You guys are made of awesome!

Anyway, enjoy Chapter Three!

Disclaimer: I own only what is mine. everything else belongs to Q.T. and Squeenix.

* * *

Chapter Three

"I Have Vermin to Kill"

**Cosmo Area Airport**

Due to the lack of commercial entertainment and the focus on cosmic, metaphysical and geocentric sciences, Cosmo Canyon was not the most popular tourist spot. In fact, most of the people who visited the out-of-the-way village were scholars, scientists, spiritual seekers and others of like mind-sets, who were interested in studying the ways of the planet and the mysteries of the Lifestream. The low tourist rate suited the residents of the remote village just fine because it insured that their peaceful and somewhat isolated way of life would remain just as it was.

Because of the infrequent trips made to the Cosmo Area, there were no regularly scheduled transports to there from any city or town. For this reason, people who decide to visit the village would have to drive or charter a private plane to the small airport, which was "conveniently located" twenty miles northwest of Cosmo Canyon, and then take the shuttle bus to the village.

Tifa err- Devon Shayne (as she identified her as to the ticket agent) stepped out of a small twin-engine charter plane and onto the tarmac of the small Cosmo Area airport after the four-hour flight from Rocket Town. Once she made sure all of her luggage was together and stowed in the storage compartment of the shuttle bus, she climbed aboard and sat in quiet contemplation as the driver guided the vehicle to Cosmo Canyon.

**Cosmo Canyon**

An hour and a half later, Tifa entered a medium sized establishment called "Cosmo Bar and Grill." She stood near the door and observed her surroundings, noting that the atmosphere was casual and comfortable. The decor had an understated tropical feel that surprisingly enough, did not come off as cheesy out-of-place tourist bait. Soft music, common to the Destiny Isles, played unobtrusively in the background. All in all, the ambiance was quiet pleasing.

Another thing Tifa found surprising was that the place was completely empty except for the bartender, who smiled at her from behind the bar. The man looked to be in his mid-fifties, though he had a body that any twenty-something would be proud to have. He was about 6'1" and very muscular, but not overly so, and appeared to be in excellent health. He had wise brown eyes, brown hair and a full beard that was ever so slightly starting to gray. Basically, he was not the type of man you'd expect to work as a bartender in a place like this.

"Hi," Tifa said almost timidly from her spot by the entrance. She stared intently at the man, as if she were looking for something.

The man looked at the young woman. She wore a white fitted T-shirt with a large picture of a Cosmo Canyon sunset on the front, dark low rider jeans and black and white sneakers. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she wore large black sunglasses that were still covering her eyes, even though she was inside the dimly lit restaurant. She was a new face to the Canyon and seemed nice enough. He greeted the young woman with genuine affability.

"Welcome to the Cosmo Bar and Grill," the man said with a smile.

Tifa smiled at that and walked further inside. She didn't come across as one of the world's deadliest assassins, but instead as a sweet, somewhat shy, tourist.

As she walked over and stood at the bar, a flash of orange and red caught her eye. She held her face in the bartender's direction is if she were looking at him, but behind her black sunglasses, her eyes lowered to the floor behind the bar and saw exactly what she expected to see. She smiled and shifted her eyes back to the man before her.

"Thanks, um, may I sit at the bar?" she asked.

"Oh, sure, sure. Please sit." He gestured to a stool and she took a seat. He then handed her a menu. "So, what can I get you to drink?"

Tifa glanced at the beverage section of the menu. "Uhhh, how about a ginger beer?" she asked politely.

"Coming right up." The man grabbed a glass from somewhere under the bar. "So is this your first time in Cosmo Canyon?" he asked conversationally, as he held the glass under the beer tap and filled it before setting it in front of her.

"Yes it is. It's very beautiful. So different from where I live."

"And where would that be?"

"Midgar," she said after taking a sip of her drink.

The bartender nodded knowingly. "Ah the big city, I've been there many times– uh, excuse me one moment." The man turned toward the open door that lead to the kitchen and yelled to someone back there. "We have a customer. Bring out an appetizer platter, quickly."

"I'm watching my soap operas." A younger male voice stated from the kitchen.

Tifa raised an eyebrow at the statement.

"Ah, shit. Lazy bastard . . . " the bartender groaned in irritation. "Screw your soap opera . . . Hurry up!" he yelled.

"Where is that new kid you hired? Break time ended fifteen minutes ago," the voice asked.

"She probably got tired of doing your work as well as her own and quit! Appetizers! Now!"

Tifa fought the smile that threatened to appear.

"You know today's special. Why don't you fix it yourself for once?" the faceless voice retorted.

"Shut up! Get your ass out here!" the man yelled. He turned back to Tifa and smiled sheepishly.

"Excuse me."

Tifa smiled in return to show him it was okay.

"As I was saying, I have been to Midgar many times. But I must admit, I wasn't too sad when it came time to leave. Of course, I'm not one for cities. I prefer open spaces and fresh air, but to each his own."

"I don't blame you," Tifa laughed. "This place is definitely a refreshing change of scenery."

"So, how long have you been here?"

"I arrived a couple of hours ago. How about you?" she asked and took another sip of beer.

"Hmm?"

"How long have you lived here? Are you from Cosmo Canyon?"

"Oh, I moved here some years back." The older man then remembered something. "Oh my Gods." The exasperated bartender turned to the door once again. "Tidus! What the hell happened to the appetizers? Hurry up dammit! Lazy bastard . . . "

A young man in his early-to-mid twenties, walked out of the kitchen. He was of medium height and build. He had shaggy blond hair, ocean blue eyes, well-tanned skin, and one shitty attitude. His gaze caught on the brunette beauty sitting on the opposite side of the bar.

Tifa looked at the young man. His name had caught her attention. He was attractive, no doubt, but he wasn't her type. She was over that whole 'blond haired blue eyed, smartass pretty boy' stage she had been in since the age of 15. And even if she weren't, she could never be with him, not Tidus.

"Well, well pretty lady, I'm Tidus. What can I do for you?" the young man asked with a sly grin, as he began to slink up to her in time with the particularly upbeat summery song that was coming from the restaurant's sound system at the moment.

"I'll take 'The Gigas' steak burger and mozzarella fries." Tifa replied evenly as the older man reached over the counter and slapped the blond on the back of the head, which earned him an indignant 'hey' from said blond.

Tidus eyed Tifa skeptically. "The Gigas? We call it that for a reason. You sure a tiny thing like yourself can handle it?"

Before Tifa could respond, the bartender interrupted. "Big, small, who gives a damn. Get her what she ordered."

At this point in time, the blond decided to start acting like a child yet again.

"How come I always have to get the orders? Ya know what? For ten years you got to bartend and I did the cooking. If this were the military, I'd be General by now!"

Tifa had to suppress the extremely unladylike snort that threatened to erupt at that absurd analogy.

The bartender looked at the young cook. "Oh, so you'd be General huh? If you were General, I'd be Commander in Chief, and guess what? You would still fix the goddamn meals. So shut up and go cook!"

Tidus sighed in mock dejection and shook his head dramatically. "See what I have to deal with?" he asked Tifa before heading into the kitchen to prepare her food.

Tifa rolled her eyes, a small smile played on her lips. _"Some things never change_." She thought to herself.

"Sorry," The poor bartender said to Tifa. He honestly wouldn't have blamed her if she'd up and left right then and there. So he had already made up his mind to give her the meal on the house. This is why the place was deserted at 3:47 in the afternoon. Because of that damn boy's lousy work ethic. Never mind that they served the best food in town, who'd want to come and wait forty-five minutes to an hour to enjoy it?! And whenever he hired someone new to pick up the slack, either they were incapable of following the recipes, or they refused to bust their asses while Tidus did nothing. And he couldn't fire the boy . . . could he?

"_No. I can't. Damned last requests and dying wishes! And damn my being so dammed honorable! It's a good thing I'm not running this place for the money or I'd be cosmically screwed," _he though almost bitterly. Then a voice brought him back to reality. He looked at the young woman in front of him. "Uh, I'm sorry, what?

"I asked if you were alright?" Tifa asked not even bothering to try and hide her amusement any longer.

He smiled. Something about this whole situation seemed like total déjà vu. But what was it? And this young lady, she was a lot like someone he used to know, but different at the same time. "Yes, yes, yes. Of course. So what brings you to Cosmo?"

"I came to see a couple of people." She suddenly became serious.

"Oh, yeah? You have friends in Cosmo?"

"Yes and no."

The man looked at her curiously. The previous lighthearted rapport had suddenly turned heavy and serious.

"I go way back with one of them, but the other, I've never actually met him," She elaborated.

"Oh?"

"Mmhm." Tifa nodded, "I'm sure you've heard of them."

"May I ask who are they?"

"Red XIII and Shishou Zan."

As soon as the names escaped her lips, a loud crash was heard from the kitchen and something stirred behind the bar.

"What do you want with these people?" The bartender asked easily. His face remained friendly but his eyes were now cold.

She mirrored his expression perfectly. "I need Seto steel."

"Why do you need Seto steel?"

"I have vermin to kill."

"You must have big rats if you need Seto steel."

"Huge."

Tidus stood in the doorway watching the exchange with concern written all over his face. His eyes turned to the bartender as he began to speak.

"Miss, you sh – ," before the man could finish, the young woman removed her large black sunglasses and looked him dead in the eyes. Wise brown eyes met deep burgundy ones and breath caught in the throats of both men. Tidus stepped forward, gaping in complete shock. _"Impossible! She . . . died . . . "_

"Tifa?" The older man asked in a mix of disbelief and hope.

"Yes, Zangan," Tifa responded.

"How are you here?" Zangan asked, as he looked into the eyes of the girl he once thought of as a daughter, eyes he hadn't seen in over a decade, eyes he would know anywhere.

"You mean how am I still breathing." It wasn't a question. "I will explain everything but first– "

"First we have other things to discuss," An entirely new voice stated.

Everyone's eyes turned in the direction of the voice, which happened to come from behind the bar. Tidus and Zangan watched the figure round the bar, making himself visible to the women on the other side.

"Hello Red XIII, I'm glad to finally meet you," Tifa said, inclining her head respectfully. "I am Tifa Lockhart."

The creature known as Red XIII, sat back on his haunches and looked intently at the young woman. He had a somewhat lion-like appearance, but was only slightly larger than a big dog. His bright fiery red fur had black tribal markings located on the sides of his face and across his legs, with the addition of the symbol for thirteen tattooed in roman numerals on his left shoulder. A long scar ran down from the top of his forehead and over his right eye. Two large white and blue feathers were woven into his stiff red-brown mane that flared out at the top of his head and then traveled down to the middle of his back. Adorning his legs were three-inch wide gold metal bracelets with triangular patterns etched into them. His lithe body exuded power and grace, while his single eye shone with both great wisdom and knowledge. And although Red XIII was a sight to behold in general, the most extraordinary thing of all about him was the intense flame that lit the end of is long tail. It was cool to the touch, but seemed to burn with an inextinguishable mystic energy more powerful than any fire.

Tifa took in his form with quiet admiration.

"I am afraid I no longer go by that name. I am Nanaki of Cosmo Canyon." Red XII told Tifa in a deep and serene voice. "I have heard much about you, child. Tidus," Nanaki turned to the blond male, "Zangan and I have matters to discuss with Miss Lockhart. Please look after things here."

Tidus, who was still in shock at the situation, nodded dumbly in compliance. Tifa half expected him to object to being left out, but at the same time was not surprised when he didn't. Nanaki had an aura about him that was gentle but hinted at a fierce strength that should not be taken lightly.

"Please, follow me," the feline entity beckoned.

Tifa nodded and followed him towards the back of the restaurant.

Zangan had studied the young woman intently while she spoke with Nanaki. Yes, this really was Tifa Lockhart, the girl he practically raised, but something was off. Different. Burgundy eyes that were once warm and bright now had a cold edge to them along with something else he had hoped he would never see there. A deep hatred burned within. Her once pure soul had been tainted with the worse kind of poison. One that was all consuming and could easily bring the strongest person to their knees and eventually destroy everything around them and leave them as nothing more than an empty shell in the end. That is, if death didn't find them first. Blood lust, the thirst for revenge, was the worst poison for the soul. He had seen it before too many times to count, and the end result was always the same. A morally decrepit being whose character was so distorted from what it once was that even to those who knew them best could not recognize them anymore. And they go through their existence as little more than a shadow of their former self. Once a person reaches that point, there really was no going back. Self-destruction at its peak. He did not want that for her.

Their eyes met as she walked past him and she knew he saw her for what she now was.

He followed Nanaki and Tifa to the small corridor and staircase leading to the second floor of the building.

Tidus stood by the bar and watched the woman he once regarded as a sister disappear from view.

* * *

After ascending the stairs to the second floor, the trio walked down a short narrow hallway to the door at the very end. When they reached the door, the feline creature lifted a large paw and with unexpected ease, pulled down the handle of the door and pushed it open. He allowed the two humans to enter the medium sized room and then followed slowly behind.

The room had many handcrafted swords, guns and other weapons made of one kind of metal or another. Each piece was intricately designed and no two were the same. Wooden racks ran the length and height of the walls, only breaking for two small windows on the right side of the room and for the door they had just passed through.

Tifa walked down the row of weapons and stopped at the swords. She lightly touched the shiny wooden sheath of a katana. True, this wasn't her weapon of choice (she preferred and excelled at hand-to-hand combat) but she was more than proficient at swordplay since this was a key component in how many of the DWAS missions were carried out. It was a symbol used when the DWAS wanted to send a clear message to those who needed to be reminded of their place in the grand scheme of things. That 'place' always being far below Cloud Strife and his WEAPONs. Needless to say, their intended recipients rarely misunderstood them.

Tifa needed a sword for exactly that purpose. Cloud needed to be put in his place the hard way. Her old sword would have been great for the job but… it, along with her old life, was gone, and it was highly unlikely she'd ever see it again nor did she wish to. Still, the idea did have an appealing irony that even Cloud would appreciate.

Coming out of her thoughts, Tifa looked over her shoulder to Nanaki who stood by the door.

"May I?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, you may . . . "

Her eyes moved over each beautifully made sword. She began to reach for one.

"Try the fourth one from the top, in the sixth row to your left," Nanaki offered.

Tifa followed his suggestion and lifted the samurai sword in its shiny, black sheath from the rack.

She unsheathed the steel partially, admiring the sword's simple beauty. Then with an experienced flourish, she removed the blade from the sheath completely. She quickly, executed a series of flourishes and parries.

Zangan smiled in approval, "Some things haven't changed I see," he said after what seemed like an eternity of silence on his part.

She returned his smile with a wry one of her own then sheathed the sword.

Nanaki padded across the room and stood in front of the dark haired woman.

"I wanted to show you these . . . However someone as you, who knows so much, and who knows Zangan, must surely know that I no longer bless instruments of death. I keep these here only for their ascetic and sentimental value." He sat before her, his tail swaying lightly against the floor. "Though I am proud of my life's work . . . I have retired."

"Then give me one of these." Tifa was determined to leave this place with Seto steel and nothing was going to stop her.

"They are not for sale," he said firmly.

Tifa smirked, "I didn't say _sell_, I said _give._

"And still the answer remains _no_." He stood and made to leave the room.

Tifa made to speak, but Zangan was faster, "Why is this so important?"

"I told you, pest control."

Nanaki looked over his shoulder at the persistent young human. "Tell me, why should I be obliged to assist you in the extermination of your vermin?"

Tifa stared unwaveringly into his eyes, "Because my vermin, is a former student of yours. And considering the student, I'd say you have a rather large obligation."

The creature's ears literally perked up at that statement and he turned around fully to face her head on. Zangan looked at her in disbelief.

They both scrutinized her with uncertainty, looking for any hint of dishonesty or perhaps misunderstanding on their own part.

Seeing this, Tifa clarified so there was no question as to whom she spoke of.

"This student is the very reason you ceased the pursuit of your life's work."

The great beast looked at her with regret as his expressive eye almost begged her to say it wasn't true, even though he knew it is.

Tifa nodded to confirm her previous statements.

Nanaki and Zangan made eye contact as a silent message passed between the two.

Zangan spoke to Tifa. "You can stay with me at my home. Tidus will help you bring over your belongings from the hotel."

Tifa smiled with gratitude.

"It will take my smiths and me a month and a half to create the sword. I suggest you spend it practicing. You may use the sword you have now to practice with if you wish," Nanaki stated as he tuned and left the room.

The woman looked down to the sword in her right hand and seemed to become lost in thought.

Zangan studied her a moment. She was so different from the girl she used to be. Though they had only been reunited for less than an hour, and for most of that time he had no clue who she was, he could see it in the way she carried herself and he could feel it in her aura. And her eyes . . . the pain, anger, hate, fear, wrath, grief; these emotions seemed to permeate her very being and rolled off of her in waves. Why had he not noticed this earlier? Perhaps it was because she purposely created a false front to hide behind. He did not know what happened to her all these years, or what Strife did to this girl who's so very dear to his heart to make her want him dead so badly, but he sure as hell was going to find out before she left. Maybe this time he could find a way to save her from herself, rather than fail like all those years ago.

But one thing he knew for certain, one way or another, Cloud Strife was a dead man.

**

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Thanks for reading! X3

Niquie


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